


Until we Meet Again

by PlzdontcallmeVal (vlh114)



Category: Barduil - Fandom, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, What they did inbetween, When they last met, how they first met
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 22:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20181715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlh114/pseuds/PlzdontcallmeVal
Summary: How Bard and Thranduil began their relationship and how they met through the years.





	Until we Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for Major Character Death because we all know what happens to Bard at the end. I am working on trying to fix that in some other fics... I'm not thrilled with the ending as written but I can't work on it anymore..so many WIPs...so little time.

The first time they met it was early spring. The flowers had yet to bloom and the river was high with the winter run-off from the mountains. Walking alone in the forest one day the Elven King was drawn toward the sound of the running river. When he crested the hill he saw the bargeman was there with his son loading the empty barrels onto their barge. Normally the elf would be completely disinterested in the activity but when he looked upon the bargeman’s son his heart skipped a beat. He had heard a rumor that the old bargeman’s son had grown from a gangly boy into a very impressive looking young man, but the rumors did not do the young man justice. 

The young man was indeed striking but while the Elven King could imagine staring into those expressive green eyes, running his fingers through the wavy, dark hair and kissing those perfectly pouty lips any kind of personal relationship with the young man was out of the question though his heart already hurt at the thought after one glance. An affair with a man, or woman, not an elf would not be tolerated. There had been a time when it was acceptable, if kept discreet, for his people, but it would not do for their widowed king. That did not mean he couldn’t, at least, meet the man. Technically the bargemen worked for him so there was no reason he should not speak to them.

*

They had just finished pulling the last barrel from the water when Bard turned to see a figure standing on the shore watching them. “Da.” When Bard was sure he had his father’s attention he nodded toward the beach.

With the sun behind him it was difficult to tell who the elf was or what he looked like, “We better go see what he wants.”

As quickly as they could they maneuvered the barge to shore. When the elf finally came into view Bard’s heart skipped a beat just as the Elven King’s had. He had little time to speak when his da nudged him, “Have some respect boy, bow to the man.”

Bard bowed but didn’t understand who he was bowing to until his da said, “My Lord, Thranduil, how can I be of service this morning?”

It was the king of the elves! Bard had heard rumors from the maidens in town of his beauty even though he had not been seen for decades. But the rumors were nowhere near the truth. The man, no elf, was the most beautiful sight Bard had ever seen. A little taller than him, but not by much, he wore light blue from head to toe and a crown decorated with spring leaves on his head. So enraptured he was Bard heard not one word of the exchange between his da and the king until he was nudged again. 

“My son, Bard. Grew up on the river, he did. It’s time he learn the ways of the job.”

Bard knew better than to expect the elf to shake his hand so he bowed again, “It’s an honor to meet you, my lord.”

Thranduil thought _the pleasure is all mine_ but he said, “If there is anything you need just call out. One of the scouts will come.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Bard’s da said. 

With a swirl of light blue robes the king of the elves turned and walked away.

When he thought the elf was too far away to hear him Bard’s da said, “That was something. You should be impressed he came to meet you. He never bothers with us Lakemen or anybody else.”

“I am _very_ impressed, da. He’s quite something to look at, isn’t he?”

“Get those kinds of thoughts out of your head, boy. They won’t do you no good. I know what you do with those dock men but, he’s off limits. Understand? You’re gonna marry a nice Laketown girl, settle down and make plenty of grandbabies for me and your ma to bounce on our knees.”

Bard knew quite well what was expected of him but his heart or more likely his cock had other thoughts. He sighed, “Yes, da.” But all the way home Bard imagined what the elven king looked like under his robes and what that creamy skin would feel and taste like. It would be nothing like the dry, rough skin of the Lakemen he’d been carrying on with that smelled like fish and tasted like salt.

*

Thranduil had heard every word spoken between the two bargemen making his heart race. It seemed that Bard was just as interested in him as he was in Bard. He would figure out a way to get the young man alone just once. One innocent encounter to learn more about the young bargeman would have to be enough to last an eternity.

***

The second time they met it was late Autumn. The scouts had informed their king that Bard had been working alone on the barge for a week. When Thranduil learned of the change in circumstances he went for another walk.

As the barge pulled up to the beach Thranduil was waiting. “You have been on your own lately. Is your father well?”

Bard didn’t remember to bow when he stepped from the barge to the shore, “Da broke his leg, lucky he didn’t break his neck, falling off the roof so he’s laid up for a bit.”

“Very unfortunate. Give him my regards.”

“I will. Thank you,” Bard remembered to bow. When the elf didn’t walk away he asked, “Is there something I can do for you, my lord?”

“You can have lunch with me. I assume you do eat.”

“Oh, umm…yeah, yes. Thank you.” After tying up the barge Bard followed the king over a small hill to find a meadow with a picnic laid out on the lush grass. He could hear the soothing run of the river but could not see it. He could also not see the armed guard of elves that protected their king but he was sure they were there. There was no way the king of the elves would be out alone.

Thranduil stood aside to let Bard see what had been set out. “Help yourself to whatever you desire.”

_Should I actually say what I’m thinking_? _What’s the worst that could happen?_ _ I could lose my job as bargeman though the barge does belong to my family. Or I could offend the king, cause an incident and wind up with some kind of injury, most likely an arrow, to my person_. Bard, deciding to risk it, took one step closer to Thranduil to whisper, “What if it was _you_ I desired?”

Thranduil, who had thought he had seen and heard it all, was surprised by Bard’s answer, “You are very brazen. I could have you beheaded for saying that.”

“You could,” Bard winked at the King of the Elves, “but you won’t. I think you desire me as much as I desire you.” Bard thought he saw the elf blush, “You’re very beautiful.”

“You flatter me.” Thranduil moved a few steps away to put some distance between him and temptation.

“I flatter you?” Bard would not allow the elf any distance so he followed closely, “There’s no more beautiful a creature walking Middle Earth and you want to have lunch with _me_. There must be ten thousand elves more beautiful than me for you to have lunch with.”

Once again Thranduil walked a few paces away, “There are many elves that would be all too happy to take your place.”

Bard followed the king, “Why me then?”

This time Tranduil turned to face Bard instead of walking away, “Since you have been forthright with me allow me to do the same. You intrigue me. It was my wish to learn more about you.”

“And what have you learned so far?”

“I have learned that you are a dutiful son.”

“Anything else?”

“You are impulsive and rather impish.”

“Impish?”

“Yes. You like to make trouble.”

“We’ve spoken for less than an hour and you know me so well already,” Bard winked at the Elven King again. “Tell me something about yourself?”

Thranduil took half a step closer, “I desire you as you desire me.”

Bard could feel the elf’s breath on his face, “Call off your guards then.”

“That will not do.” Thranduil took several steps backwards, “It is forbidden for me to have a personal relationship with you.”

“A relationship? What if all I wanted was one night?”

“I could not.”

“Why? We both feel the same.”

“I am the King of the Greenwood.”

“That explains nothing.”

“My people would not approve.”

“Have you asked them?”

“There is no need.”

“What if one of your people wanted a ‘personal relationship’ with me?”

“It would be frowned upon.”

“By who, you or the people?”

“Both.”

“And if I said I was in love with you?”

“Neither your feelings for me nor my feelings for you would matter.”

“Why ask me to lunch then, to torture me with what I cannot possibly have?”

“I did not think…”

There was heat in Bard’s voice when he said, “No, you didn’t.”

“I will take my leave of you then.” There was no dramatic swirl of ivory silk when Thranduil turned to go he just bowed his head and walked away.

Bard looked down on the lunch that had been set out for him. There was a selection of cold meats and cheeses, an assortment of fruit and vegetables, bread and butter. There was also a carafe of wine and a pitcher of water. They had touched none of it. As much as his family needed the food he could not bring himself to take it. After one last look in the direction the elf had taken Bard returned to his barge to do his job.

****

The third time they met it was Spring again. Bard had been told the Elven King demanded to see him while Thranduil was told an emissary from Laketown wished to have an audience with him.

“Send him away,” Thranduil instructed. “I am not seeing anyone today.”

“You’ll want to see this one,” Legolas called to his father who was sitting up on his throne trying not to look bored.

Thranduil stood as Bard was led across the bridge. “What is the meaning of this? Is Laketown sending bargemen to do their business now?”

Legolas shook his head and spoke before Bard could get in a word, “I only said he was an emissary so you would see him.”

“Why the pretense?”

“Ada, everyone has noticed that you have been pining away since the lunch with the bargeman went so badly.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘bargeman’? I have a name.” Bard interjected.

“I have not been pining away for the bargeman.” Thranduil said, ignoring Bard’s comment.

“If you’re not going to talk _to_ me, I’m going to have to be getting back. Can somebody lead me out of here?” Bard knew he’d never find the way out on his own.

Legolas also ignored Bard, “Yes, you have. Your people want you to be happy. If this bargeman makes you happy then so be it.”

“Are you going to fire me?” Bard asked.

Thranduil looked down at Bard, “It is not my intention to dismiss you, bargeman.” It occurred to the king that Bard did not know who the other elf was, “My son, Legolas, is mistaken in some of his ideas.”

“You’re son?” Now that he was aware of the relationship between the two elves Bard did notice a slight resemblance.

“Yes.”

“He said it was okay for us to be together.”

“He did,” Thranduil started to make his way down the stairs from this thrown to the floor below. “But I cannot take the word of one elf, even if that elf is my son, to represent that of all my people.”

“Galion!” Legolas called out.

It wasn’t long before another elf appeared, one with dark hair, not as beautiful but still very attractive. To Bard this elf looked less confident than Legolas.

“Galion, tell ada what his people say.”

“My Lord,” Galion said, and Bard thought the elf would rather be anyplace else than where he was at that moment. “Your people would not be against a private affair with this man from Laketown.”

“Private affair?” Bard asked.

Thranduil had reached the floor but had kept his distance from the small party before him. He bowed slightly then said, “Thank you. You both may be excused.” He waited until the other elves had disappeared before turning to Bard, “Please come with me.”

Over bridges that resembled, and may actually have been, giant tree roots, around sharp corners and down quiet halls Bard followed the Elven King until they entered a garden.

“This is my private garden. We will not be disturbed or overheard here. Please sit.”

Thranduil had indicated a stone bench but Bard was too agitated to sit, “Tell me what ‘private affair’ means.”

“It is as I said. The people would not approve of an open affair between us.”

“But a private affair is alright?”

“Yes.”

Bard finally got what it meant, “Sneaking around in the middle of the night, making sure nobody saw or heard anything.”

“Yes.”

“That or nothing.”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“It is more than I expected.”

“But we would get to be together.”

“Yes.”

Bard moved forward fully expecting Thranduil to move away but the elf remained where he was. Bard whispered, “I’d be your dirty little secret.” Not that he really had a problem with that. He knew how to keep them.

“In a fashion.”

“How’s that?”

“The people certainly know about you. You are not a secret.”

Bard paused in his questioning to look around. He had no idea what the names of the flowers were but they were beautiful. “Where would we meet? Here?”

“If you would like. There is an entrance from the wood. It is concealed by a spell but you can find it if you know where to look.”

“Do you have a bed?”

“If you follow this path it will take you to my private chambers.”

After following the path the Elven King had shown him Bard entered what was definitely a bedroom but it was much less grand than he had expected. There was a table set for two inside the doorway he’d entered through, a desk with neat piles of parchment on it with two quill pens and a small bottle of ink, a lounge chair sat between two doors that Bard assumed went to the privy and a closet and a bed big enough for Bard’s whole family. “I thought elves didn’t sleep.”

“We do not but sometimes it does feel good to lie down and sometimes we lay down to meditate.”

“There’s no mirror.” Bard cringed; he hoped the comment didn’t offend.

Thranduil smiled, “The mirror is in the dressing room.”

“It’s, uh, nice.” And it was just that, not grand or elaborate, just nice.

Thranduil’s smile turned to a smirk, “Thank you. Would you like a drink?” The king waved toward the table but did not move toward it instead he moved toward Bard.

On the small table was a decanter and two glasses but Bard declined, “No, thank you.” He could feel his heartbeat speeding up as the king approached him. “I never really thought…I mean, I wished…I even dreamed about it once or twice…” A hand on his face stopped Bard’s babbling. Thranduil’s thumb traced the outline of his lips.

“Do you want to lay with me, bargeman?”

Bard took a step backwards letting Thranduil’s hand fall away, “Does it do your ego good to keep calling me that, reminding us both that I’m just a lowly servant to your majesty?”

“Not at all. I meant no offense. I apologize. Come, lay with me, Bard.” Thranduil held out his hand, a peace offering, a temptation.

“Kiss me first, elf.”

“Imp.”

Their first kiss was nothing more than a hesitant peck on the lips before Bard pulled away again, running his fingers through his short hair, “I must confess that I am more than a little nervous.”

“Have you not lain with another man?”

“Yes. Yes, I have,” Bard recalled secret meetings on dark docks, alleyways or huts where some men of Laketown would rendezvous for sex. Sometimes, if the right man chose him there would be a coin or two in it for him. “I usually know what to expect.” This encounter was not for money but possibly for love as he already felt things he’d never felt before just looking at the elf before him.

“I see.”

Was that a look of disappointment of the Elf King’s face? “Did I say something wrong?”

“I was hoping you had not.”

“You thought I was a virgin?”

After a moment to gather himself Thranduil said, “There is something I must confess to you.”

Bard remained silent.

“My wife was the only mate I ever took to my bed.”

The word he’d just heard stunned Bard, “But you’re so beautiful.”

“Beauty has nothing to do with it. Elves only love once. When a mate dies or leaves for the sea the remaining partner does not pursue other relationships.”

“That’s terrible.”

“That is the way it is.”

“How long has it been?”

“A very long time.”

“No wonder you meditate,” Bard joked. “But if that’s true why am I here?”

“My feelings for you are very strong. I am drawn to you.”

“I’m not an elf either.”

“That may have something to do with it, yes.”

“So,” Bard teased the elf by stepping closer still, pressing his body forward, “you’ve never had sex with a man before.”

“I have not,” Thranduil’s words were barely a whisper when Bard’s lips touched his own. He shivered when Bard’s hands gently tugged at his hair.

Bard stopped to say, “I’ll try to be gentle your first time,” before he kissed Thranduil again. 

Returning Bard’s kiss with equal passion was not a problem for Thranduil but Bard must’ve felt some ambivalence.

“You’re very tense. Try to relax.”

Relaxing was not something Thranduil often did, “A drink perhaps would calm my nerves.”

“I’m not letting you go now that I have you even if you want to go as far as the other side of the room. Sit down on the bed.” But just before Thranduil could sit Bard suggested, “Perhaps it would help if you removed some of your clothes first.”

Thranduil let this robe fall to the floor after he undid the hidden clasps and ties.

“Sit.” When the Elf King sat on the edge of the bed Bard crawled behind him to begin massaging his shoulders, back and neck. When he replaced his hands with his lips Bard barely got a response. “Try to stop thinking so much. Feel what I’m doing. It may help if you close your eyes.”

It’s not that Thranduil didn’t want to let go, he did, but after millennia of self-control he felt he didn’t know how to relax anymore. He stood abruptly, “This isn’t working.”

“Maybe I should tie you up,” Bard said half-joking.

“Pardon me?”

“With your permission, of course.”

“Tie me up?”

“To help you give up some of your control. I hear some people actually enjoy it.”

“It seems like I would be giving up all my control.”

“I’d leave a way for you to get free.”

“That is very considerate.”

“I know,” Bard smiled to show the king he was not completely serious. “How about we start with a kiss?” After another quick peck on the lips Bard teased, “I’m not convinced you really want to be with me. Maybe I should go. We can forget the whole thing and you can go back to admiring me from afar.”

A feeling close to panic began to race through Thranduil’s chest when Bard put on his coat. He could not let the man leave or he feared never seeing him again. The elf king grabbed the bargeman and crashed their lips together in a passionate kiss.

It was just the reaction Bard was hoping for. It didn’t take long for them to be back on the bed, naked and desperate for each other. “Do you have any oil?” Bard asked.

Having no idea his people would approve any kind of affair Thranduil had not taken preparatory steps but out of the corner of his eye he spotted something on the table next to the bed, “There in that clay pot. It must have embarrassed whoever put it there greatly.” Thranduil secretly hoped it had been his son.

****

After a time there came a day in mid-Summer that would change their lives.

Thranduil found his lover in the garden plucking petals from a flower, “You have not been acting like yourself today. Tell me what is on your mind.”

There was no use trying to put off what he had to say, “My da has picked out a girl for me to marry.”

Thranduil recalled the day by the river, the day he’d first seen Bard, and the conversation he had with his father, “Oh?”

“I’ve spent the last few days trying to talk him out of it, but the deal’s been struck.”

As his heart broke Thranduil dropped to his knees next to his lover, “Stay here with me. Do not go back to the town on the lake.”

Bard took Thranduil’s hands, “I’ve thought about that a thousand times, but I can’t. Your people still won’t accept me or let us have an open relationship. I would be a prisoner in that room and this garden. And the work from the barge supports my family without it…” Bard shook his head, “I’m sorry.”

Rising to stand Thranduil let Bard’s hands fall; he knew they’d never touch again, “Is she beautiful?”

“She is, aye, but not as beautiful as you. Da says I can’t see you anymore. He says I have to forget you. I have to be loyal and faithful to her. I didn’t think he knew about us.”

“Your father is right. You must do what is right by your wife.”

“I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

“There will be a new spell on the path so you cannot find your way here any longer.”

“You’re angry with me.” When the elf king did not respond Bard asked, “That’s it then?”

“Yes.”

“So cold a good-bye?”

“I offered you shelter here but you refused. You belong to another now. There is nothing more to say or do.”

“I see. I’ll take my leave of you then. Good-bye, my lord,” Bard bowed before turning on his heels and marching out the familiar path. Once outside he looked back but already the doorway was lost to him.

***

When next they met it was the middle of winter; several years had passed. Thranduil was sat upon his throne, a crown of holly leaves and berries on his head when the guard announced the arrival of an unexpected visitor. “The bargeman from Laketown demands to see you, my lord.”

Even though the snow outside was deep and Thranduil knew that Bard must be desperate to have come such a long way in such conditions the elf king said, “Tell him I am not seeing any visitors today.”

“He said it was urgent, my lord, a matter of life and death.”

After a few moments the ice around Thranduil’s heart melted a bit, “Let him come.” The man who crossed the bridge to the throne was not the same man the elf king had loved. This Bard looked to have aged a hundred years when only ten had passed. But Thranduil kept his indifferent demeanor in place, “What is it that is so urgent?”

“I need your help, please! My wife, she’s ill. The healers say they’ve tried everything. Please, I beg you,” Bard fell to his knees in supplication, “please!” When the King of the Elves didn’t speak or act right away Bard said, “Please, if I ever meant anything to you.”

“You meant more to me than I ever told you. They day you left…” Thranduil shook his head, “it does not matter now.”

Bard was about to speak again but the king shouted something in his own language while he rose to descend the stairs. Several elves, including Legolas, entered the hall, were given instructions in Sindarin then left again. “I have ordered a horse for you. She will take you as far as the border of our lands. My healers will gather what they need then they will come to you. If they can save her they will.”

“Thank you, Thranduil, thank you.” If he could have thrown his arms around the king to show his gratitude Bard would have but he knew better.

“Legolas will show you the way.”

“Thank you,” Bard turned to see Legolas crossing the bridge, walking away.

“Hurry now!" Thranduil shouted, his voice laced with deep sadness.

One more look back at Thranduil then Bard ran to catch up to Legolas.

Thranduil sighed as he often did when he thought about Bard. He removed his crown as he walked past the throne steps to the path that led to his private garden.

***

The next time they met the air was crisp with the cold of early winter. Bard had slain the dragon, Smaug, and led the survivors from Laketown to Dale. They stood in the courtyard amongst the ruins of Dale; a procession of wagons hauling provisions for the starving citizens around them. Though he had heard of the passing of Bard’s wife Thranduil had not tried to renew their relationship; but neither had Bard.

There was no sentiment passed between them as they exchanged words in the courtyard. To Bard, Thranduil was as beautiful as ever. To Thranduil, Bard looked weighed down by time and responsibility. Once the distribution of the food was overseen, they had a quiet moment together in a tent the elves had erected for their king.

“How have you been?” Bard asked the safest question he could think of.

“My forest has been overrun by giant spiders.”

“Yes, I heard.”

“And you? How have you fared?”

“My village was burned down by a dragon.”

“Yes, I heard.”

“I killed it.”

“I heard that also.”

“Aren’t you impressed?”

“Very much so. I know what it is like to face down a dragon. You are lucky to be alive.”

“Yeah.”

After an uncomfortable pause Bard said, “I have three children, one boy and two girls.”

“Yes,” was all Thranduil could think of to say to that.

After a moment where Bard chose to look around the tent instead of the elf pouring himself some wine he said, “I have missed you.”

“Did you?”

“I did. Tell me you didn’t think of me while strolling in your garden or laying on your bed.” As he approached the elf king Bard raised his hand to touch but Thranduil moved away.

With his back turned Thranduil felt safer to speak the truth, “I thought of you often. I had loved you very much.”

Bard slid his arms around Thranduil’s waist, “As I loved you.”

“You left me.”

“I had no choice.”

“You loved her. She had your children.” With a twist of his body Thranduil escaped Bard’s hold.

“At first I did my duty as her husband but yes, after I time, I fell in love with her. In some ways she reminded me of you.”

“Stop! I do not want to hear.”

“Yeah,” Bard chuckled, “she was stubborn too.”

When he went to pour himself more wine Thranduil discovered that his goblet was still full. He put the cup on the table, “I was heartbroken.”

“Was? It seems you still are. But I’m here now.”

“Years wasted. So much could have been different.”

Bard did not consider the years wasted, as he had three beautiful children and a wife he had loved but he recognized the time was not so kind to the elf. “Come here and kiss me.” When Thranduil didn’t move Bard went to him, “Kiss me.”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to seduce you. Is it working?”

“Not yet.”

“Should I keep trying?” For a brief moment Bard thought he would be denied but the elf king turned around.

“You have silver in your hair now.”

“That’s what happens when men get old or are worn down.”

“Has it been that many years?”

“Aye, it has.”

“So much time wasted.”

Bard replied, “Then let’s not waste anymore.”

***

From that day on they saw each other as often as they could until Bard lay down his head for the last time.

The final words Thranduil spoke to his love were, “I will miss you, my love. Rest now. I will keep watch over your family until the end of time.”

They saw each other for the last time on a warm autumn day when Bard’s body was sent to sea. The barge was lit ablaze by a single arrow shot by his son, Bain.

The king of the elves watched until the last ember sank beneath the water then he turned and made his way back home.


End file.
